


you live like that, you live with ghosts

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Batwoman (Comic)
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Reboot, Sex in a Car, sex with your ex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:05:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4588932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Kate just can't help herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you live like that, you live with ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Taylor Swift. Pre-reboot.

Kate's got that itch under her skin today, and all the working out in the world isn't going to scratch it. It's too early to hit the streets in uniform--she's not a daylight or even a twilight vigilante--but she knows where to go to find what she needs.

Renee sits at the bar like she's a fixture, but when Kate plucks the glass out of her hand to take a sip, it's nothing but tonic with a twist. Good. She wants them both to be sober for this.

Renee gives her a long once-over that makes her whole body clench with desire, and takes the drink back without a word.

Kate cocks a hip and leans and elbow on the bar. Sometimes she just can't help herself. "There a problem, Officer?"

Renee goes still, but she can't keep from biting her lip, and Kate knows she's going to get what she wants. 

Sex was never their problem.

After a long, tense moment that's probably no more than five or ten seconds, Renee sets her glass down and unfolds from her bar stool. "Why don't we step outside?" 

Renee shoves Kate up against the wall, the brick rough and warm through her thin t-shirt, and kisses her like she's making an arrest. She cups Kate's face in her calloused hand and rubs her thumb along Kate's jawline, one bit of tenderness Kate will allow. 

Kate lets herself be shoved, kissed, held. She growls low into Renee's mouth and bites at her lower lip, settling one hand low on Renee's hip, thumb already dipping beneath the waistline of her jeans. Renee hums in response, her hand moving from Kate's cheek to tangle in her hair.

"Come on," Kate murmurs against Renee's mouth. "My car is in the parking lot." Gotham has a lot of hidden alleys and dark corners even in daylight, but they're generally not good places for this sort of thing, and Kate would rather not be interrupted.

The alarm system beeps and the doors unlock, and Kate pushes Renee into the backseat and climbs in on top of her. It's not going to be comfortable, but this isn't about comfort, not in the way most people mean.

Renee doesn't complain about being pressed up against the passenger-side door, because Kate's already unbuttoned her shirt and pressed her mouth to Renee's nipple, which pokes against the cheap beige lace of her bra. Renee arches up into Kate's mouth with a low moan, her hands busy shoving down the waist of Kate's yoga pants. Kate's not wearing any underwear; she's not looking to seduce or impress, not anymore. She just needs the sensation of Renee's fingers pushing inside her, knowing exactly where and how to touch. She grinds down into it, pleased, and skims her teeth against Renee's nipple, which earns her a gasp.

She and Renee have been broken up longer than they were a couple, but they still fit together like a key in a lock, Kate thinks, her fingers nimble enough to get Renee's fly undone so she can curl her fingers into the slick heat of Renee's cunt.

It's so easy to get lost in this: the prickle of sweat at her hairline and down her back, the soft give of Renee's body beneath her (the only time Renee is ever soft and yielding anymore), and the humid puffs of Renee's breath against her cheek, her neck, her throat. The sharp taste of lime and quinine on her tongue.

The pressure builds and builds inside her with every clever thrust and twist of Renee's fingers, and she has a hard time keeping track of what she's doing; her own hands slow down and she focuses on chasing that feeling, that moment just before she comes when the first step towards falling is flying. Her hips jerk against Renee's hand as she comes and her own fingers curl up inside Renee's cunt, ruthless now, relentless with the desire to make Renee feel the same way, make her come apart at the seams the way she's taken Kate apart.

Renee comes with a strangled moan, her cunt clenching around Kate's fingers like a vise. Kate strokes her through it roughly, and then eases off when Renee bats her hand away with a grunt.

Kate brings her fingers to her mouth and licks them clean and Renee laughs, light and clear. It makes Kate's chest ache because she can't remember the last time she heard Renee laugh like that. For a moment Kate pretends they can still have more than this, a quick fuck in the backseat in a parking lot behind a bar. 

But there isn't and they both know it. 

Renee puts herself back together and Kate lets her out of the car, languid in the afterglow, the itch under her skin soothed for a while. 

"That was fun," she says. "We'll have to do it again soon."

Renee huffs a rueful laugh. "Take care of yourself, Kate."

"I always do."

The car reeks of sex, and maybe later Kate will regret that. For now, she just guns the engine and drives away.

*


End file.
